


take a deep breath, baby, let me in

by yeehawpaulson



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Cordelia loves Misty, F/F, Fluff and Angst, angst with a resolution!, but she DOES want to kiss her!, misty is Tired, this isn't really edited but idc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:48:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeehawpaulson/pseuds/yeehawpaulson
Summary: misty's tired, and cordelia is literally the only person that can fix it
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	take a deep breath, baby, let me in

The sound of giggles and small shrieks made its way to the greenhouse, snapping Misty from her exhausted daze. She hadn’t slept in days -- well, she hadn’t really slept at all since Nan brought her back to the coven nearly three months ago, but she’d convinced herself that the short naps she occasionally took around noon in the greenhouse were enough to keep her going (although they weren’t, and she knew it). As stubborn as ever, though, Misty fought the constant ache of fatigue and pretended she was fine. 

She really wasn’t fine. The nightmares she was so actively trying to avoid had crept into her waking hours, plaguing her days with inky tendrils of darkness and constantly enveloping her in a heavy cloak of distressing misery. She could still hear Papa Legba’s voice in her ear, barely a whisper, coaxing her back into the darkness, back to him. This was often easier to deal with than the fog, because she knew Nan wouldn’t let her go back (at least not until she died again). But still, she could feel his breath on the back of her neck and smell the rot of death oozing from his decaying body. She still wasn’t sure if any of it was actually there or if she was imagining it, her mind so drained of energy that it was allowing nightmares to mesh with reality. 

She shivered violently against the empty chill that settled into her bones and stood from her chair. Her legs gave out under her, but she caught herself on the edge of the table just as Cordelia walked in. 

Misty felt the ground shifting under her feet, felt the breath being ripped from her lungs, felt herself drowning in Cordelia’s power as soon as she entered the room. Despite its intoxicatingly destructive effect on Misty, she was enamoured by Cordelia’s ability to command the space in such a visceral way. God she couldn’t think straight with her there (not that she really could before anyway), the deep pang in her gut reminding her how badly she wanted Cordelia to be close to her. So close that Misty could feel Cordelia’s breath. So close they were one person. But they wouldn’t ever be that close, not with Misty like this. 

Misty was frustrated. Frustrated with Cordelia. Frustrated that Cordelia’s love felt more than platonic, but that she treated Misty like her student. She was frustrated that Cordelia so regularly touched her and spoke to her like a lover, but still saw her as a child. She was angry that she couldn’t reach out, couldn’t bring herself to confess her undying love for Cordelia for fear of rejection. She was angry that she still felt horrible after everything Cordelia had done for her. She wanted to scream at Cordelia, wanted to unload her burden and run. But she also wanted to crumple into a pile on the floor and sob, wanted Cordelia to comfort her and be there with her. Neither option seemed plausible anymore, and Misty didn’t know what to do. 

“Mist? You alright, honey?” Cordelia asked, barely concealed concern lacing the edges of her voice.  
Her brows knit together, forehead creasing with worry as she watched Misty gather herself. She’d only arrived in time to see Misty bracing herself against the counter, but recently she’d noticed Misty acting strangely. Frankly, she was concerned about her, but didn’t want to overstep -- Misty had been through enough as it is.  
“Yeah, Delia, ’m alright,” she said quietly, nearly slurring her words.  
Misty moved towards the doorway with an uncharacteristic uncertainty and hesitancy, avoiding eye contact with Cordelia. She didn’t want her to see her so incoherent and ridiculous. She wanted to get out before she said the wrong thing. She needed to escape Cordelia’s intoxicating presence before she went insane -- before her bottled up feelings exploded from the aching space in her chest.  
Cordelia stopped her as she passed, though, with a hand around her forearm. Misty’s stare snapped up to meet Cordelia’s. She almost had to look away, the heat of Cordelia’s gaze was far too much for her right now, but she was so hypnotized by the deep brown irises staring back at her that she couldn’t bring herself to look away.  
“Misty,” Cordelia whispered. “Are you drunk?” She asked, brow furrowing.  
Misty stared at her for a long moment, processing her words. She was disoriented on her best days, and today she couldn’t even hear her own thoughts -- if she even thought anymore -- over the constant sound of blood rushing through her ears. She fought her confusion long enough to realize that she should be reacting. She needed to do something, but she didn’t know what. 

She panicked. Cordelia’s eyes hadn’t left her face and she could feel the judgement and disappointment radiating off her skin. Before Misty could formulate a response to put Cordelia at ease, she snapped.  
“No, Cordelia!” She spat, anger coursing through her veins.  
She was good at being angry, it only made sense that she’d defaulted to that, but it scared her. It sure as hell scared Cordelia, too, who recoiled and released Misty’s arm.  
“I’m fuckin’ tired, okay? Tha’s all. I dunno why it would be any a’ your business if I was drunk, anyway, Miss Supreme.”  
“Misty, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”  
“Ya didn’t what? Wan’ me to ruin your little miss perfect gig and stumble int’ the house wasted? Well don’t worry ya pretty lil head, Delia, I’ll see m’self out.” She said, voice steadying as she spoke louder.  
She stormed out of the greenhouse and out of Cordelia’s view. She was hyperventilating now, and she couldn’t stop shaking. The only cohesive thought that registered in her brain was that she couldn’t let Cordelia see her like this.

She checked over her shoulder to make sure Cordelia hadn’t followed her out and transmuted herself to the only other place she knew: her shack. Standing in the middle of the room, she felt her heart swell. She hadn’t been back there yet, and she was overcome with emotion when she noticed that the girls had left her things as they were while she was gone. Had she not been so damn tired she would have cried, but right now all she could think of was sleep. Here, by some miracle, there was less noise; less darkness and less paralysing cold. She stumbled over to her bed and fell quite gracelessly onto it. Despite her knowing she’d probably freeze, she couldn’t bring herself to move under the blankets. She fell asleep easily as soon as she closed her eyes. 

Her sleep was peaceful, and she dreamt of blonde hair and sunshine and warmth. In her sleep, she could pretend that she wasn’t haunted by her past. She could pretend she was happy. She could pretend she had Cordelia. What she wouldn’t give in exchange for an ounce of her love. She would go back to hell for a year in a heartbeat if she could just hold Cordelia for a night. She would go back with Nan forever if she could just kiss Cordelia, if she could just show Cordelia how absolutely in love with her she really was. 

When she finally woke, she didn’t know what time it was (she didn’t know how many days had passed, either). She smiled gently at her dreams and reveled in the lack of darkness at the edges of her vision. She no longer felt cold, didn’t feel Papa’s looming presence anymore. Light streamed in past her poorly placed curtains. It had been morning when she got there, so she really couldn’t tell much from that, other than she had probably been sleeping for at least a day. The stiffness in her joints and soreness in her feet indicated to her that it had been longer than that, though. 

As if she’d been hit by a truck, the previous day’s (or whatever day it was) events came rushing back to her. She vaguely remembered yelling at Cordelia, but she couldn’t recall what she said. No matter what she knew she’d screwed herself over. No way Cordelia would want to be near her, let alone speak to her, after an outburst like that. She cringed and brought her head down to her hands as a sob racked her body. Even after sleeping like that she was exhausted, completely overwhelmed and unsure of how to continue with her life. 

She gave herself enough time to cry herself out and then stood to go outside. She figured that visiting the animals would restore at least some of her energy. There was nothing quite like it for her, nothing as fulfilling as connecting with the animals and making things better for them. She all but skipped towards the door and flung it open, running smack into Cordelia. 

Misty startled and stumbled back, almost tripping over the lifted edge of her carpet.  
“Uhm, Delia… Hi,” she said.  
Why was she here? And why didn’t she just come in? She was the Supreme after all. Misty steadied her breath (why was she breathing so heavily?) and sat down on the edge of her bed.  
“Oh, uh, come in? I guess?”  
Cordelia smiled softly and stepped into the small space, closing the door behind her. Misty eyed her questioningly. She still wasn’t sure what exactly was going on; mind still hazy with leftover exhaustion and sleep. Misty loosely motioned for Cordelia to sit beside her, silently aching for Cordelia’s grounding physical closeness. The usually overwhelming energy of Cordelia’s presence was much less now, reduced to a gentle warmth now that Misty was rested. She still yearned to feel it closer, though, wanted to see how close they could get before they fell together with the gravitational pull of their souls. 

Cordelia sat beside Misty. Misty pressed her lips together to stifle the sound of her breath hitching in her chest. She could feel Cordelia’s energy moving in tendrils, reaching out to her, beckoning her closer. It took everything in Misty’s power not to reach out for the invisible threads of Cordelia’s magic, not to follow their will and gravitate closer to the woman beside her. Misty shook her head abruptly and cleared her throat. In the corner of her eye, she saw Cordelia staring at her. She wanted to catch her gaze and wordlessly communicate everything she wanted so badly to say, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to look into Cordelia’s eyes and see her feelings unreciprocated. If she didn’t look, she wouldn’t have to know. 

Against her best wishes, Misty turned towards Cordelia when she began speaking,  
“You know, you were asleep for almost two entire days. I came yesterday to check on you. And the day before. But I didn’t want to bother you.”  
Misty opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. She didn’t really have anything to say. Nothing that would distract her from the strange ache in her chest. Nothing that would alleviate the emotional pull she felt towards Cordelia. Especially not when she saw Cordelia looking back at her with soft, searching eyes, the kind Misty had only ever seen in her dreams. The kind she wanted to see.  
“Misty,” she said slowly, “I know that you didn’t mean any of what you said back in the greenhouse. I’m not mad, if you’re worried about that.”  
Misty’s gaze still hadn’t left Cordelia’s face. Her eyes traced the curve of her lips, the sharp edge of her jaw, the arch of her eyebrow, into each of her eyes. She was memorizing her face, just in case she’d never see her again. Something in this moment felt heavy, felt almost final. As if after whatever was to happen, nothing would ever be the same.  
“Are you going to say anything, Mist, or am I wasting my time?” Cordelia asked, annoyance creeping into her voice. The tone was abnormal for her, especially around Misty, and something about it stirred up unaddressed emotion from deep in Misty’s gut. 

Misty took a breath, the unfamiliar feeling settled into her bones. She stood from the bed and turned.  
“What do ya wan’ from me, Delia?” She asked, shrugging loosely, voice so quiet that Cordelia almost had to ask her to repeat herself.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand the question.” She replied, confusion painting her features.  
Misty huffed a breath. She motioned with her hands absently a few times, unsure herself of what she was trying to say. She wanted to say “Cordelia, I’m in love with you” but she also wanted to say “Cordelia, please leave me alone, I can’t be around you anymore” but she also wanted to just yell. She wanted to scream at her for causing her so much pain, for being so close, yet so untouchable. For allowing her to live in her own nightmare for months without even noticing. She couldn’t breathe when she was near, but she couldn’t breathe when they were apart. She was done trying to live such a complicated life. Her entire existence had been contradictory since she had returned. It was exhausting on a good day, and today wasn’t a good day. 

“Delia…” Misty sighed.  
She didn’t really know what to say, still unsure of what she wanted. Cordelia looked at her expectantly. A soft smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Misty, though, didn’t see it; she was too busy staring at her hands, willing them to stop shaking.  
“I know you’re not mad, but I really jus’… I really don’ know how t’… I dunno if I can keep doin’ this.” She said finally, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.  
As soon as she noticed Misty’s tears, she stood and moved to pull her into a hug. Misty jerked away from her,  
“Don’ touch me,” she said, voice quivering.  
Cordelia didn’t back away, just stood in place. Misty’s eyes locked with hers. They pleaded with her. Cordelia couldn’t decipher the message Misty was sending her, but she could see the pain, and that was enough.  
“Talk to me, please, Misty.”  
“There’s nothin’ t’ say, Delia,” she replied simply.  
Her feelings would never be reciprocated, and she knew that. So why was she so hung up on her? Cordelia had endless chances to say something, anything, over the past three months, and she hadn’t.  
“Delia, I think I’m gonna leave the coven.”  
Cordelia couldn’t stop herself from gaping at Misty.  
“What do you mean, leave?”  
“I mean, I’m leavin’… I dunno, goin’ somewhere else,”  
“I know what leaving means, Misty.” She chuckled. “Why?”  
Misty turned away. A reluctant hand rested on her shoulder. Misty looked at it. She admired the pair of frog rings, the perfectly groomed nails, the slender length of the fingers. When Misty didn’t shrug her hand away, Cordelia pulled Misty to face her again. 

They stood like that, Cordelia’s hand still on Misty’s shoulder, for several moments. With each passing second, Misty felt her emotions unravel more and more, felt herself floating instead of sinking, breathing instead of drowning. It was as if Cordelia had flipped a switch. Misty felt her energy reach out again, this time wrapping her in warmth. She was drawn by an intangible force towards Cordelia.  
“If you really want to leave, let me do something first,” Cordelia said, then pulled Misty in by the waist and crushed their lips together. 

Misty had been kissed before, but never like this. Never so tenderly, never so surely. Cordelia’s mouth was hot, her lips soft, the sensation completely overtaking Misty’s other senses. It was just Cordelia. And Cordelia’s lips. And Cordelia’s tongue -- which felt like silk (or something, Misty was never one for expensive things) as it slid gently into Misty’s mouth. Misty whined gently and Cordelia pulled back slightly. Misty didn’t let her get far, though, because she pulled Cordelia back in and kissed her, deeper this time. She didn’t know how, but she knew that all the words she’d wanted to say were being communicated. Misty was breathing them into Cordelia, and Cordelia drank them in gratefully as she kissed Misty back fervently. 

Misty finally pulled away, leaning back into Cordelia’s hands that had wrapped themselves around her waist. She breathed slowly, trying to prolong the moment, as she stared into Cordelia’s eyes. The deep brown color of her irises had almost completely disappeared, replaced by blown pupils and heavy eyelids. Before Misty could move again, Cordelia drew her into a tight embrace.  
“Misty?” She whispered into her neck.  
Misty hummed in response and breathed in the smooth, earthy-sweet smell of Cordelia’s perfume. She wanted to bathe in her scent, wanted to live in her arms.  
“I love you,” Cordelia murmured, voice impossibly quieter.  
Misty all but ripped herself out of Cordelia’s arms.  
“What?”  
“Misty, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”  
“No, tell me what ya said,” Misty clarified quickly, “Please.”  
Cordelia blushed a deep shade of red and wrung her hands. It was endearing to see Cordelia like that, and Misty realized that she herself had probably looked the same way most of the time. Perhaps they’d both ignored the signs.  
“I said that I love you.” Cordelia said finally, eyes trailing on the floor.  
“And what if I told ya I loved you, too?” Misty prodded, a grin splitting across her face.  
Cordelia surged forward and tugged Misty down, peppering her face with small kisses. Misty briefly obliged, but then held Cordelia’s chin and kissed her properly. Just once, almost as if she needed proof that she was real. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon hand in hand, walking along the bank of the swamp and sitting on the steps of Misty’s shack. They didn’t talk much, but nothing went unsaid. Their words were intangible, but wordlessly spoken with such potency that they couldn’t have told a difference. Slowly, as the sun sunk below the treeline and inched closer to the horizon, they made their way inside.

Misty flopped onto her bed as Cordelia shut the door. How familiar this was, but the circumstances were so different. Misty yawned deeply and reached for Cordelia. She pulled her down onto the bed.  
“Can you just hold me? Please?” She asked.  
“Baby, you haven’t eaten in days, we should-”  
Misty interrupted her with a kiss. She smiled again (she was doing a lot of that lately, and she knew it was because of Cordelia).  
“Take me home, then.”  
Misty’s use of the word “home” to refer to the coven’s house meant more to Cordelia than she let on. Nodding silently, Cordelia transmuted them into her bedroom.

Misty had only been in there once before -- purely by accident, too. The entire space was foreign to her, especially after so many years. She looked around the room from where Cordelia had perched them on the bed. Taking note of Misty’s uncertainty, Cordelia said,  
“You don’t have to stay in here if you don’t want to.”  
Misty looked at her, tilting her head as if to ask for an explanation.  
“I just mean, if you don’t feel comfortable. I just thought you might… I… If you want, I want you to stay in here with me.” She finished finally.  
Misty’s eyes lit up and she nodded. She yawned again, and Cordelia stroked her cheek, smoothing hair out of her face.  
“Delia, ’m so tired. Can I sleep?” Misty asked reluctantly.  
“Of course,” Cordelia said as she helped Misty move under the blankets.  
She kissed her forehead and turned to leave, but halted when she heard Misty whimper.  
“Delia, can ya stay here?”  
Now it was Delia’s turn to tilt her head questioningly.  
“I hav’n’ been able t’ sleep, ’cept for yesterday…” She yawned again. “I get these nightmares, and-”  
“I can stay here,” Cordelia interrupted.  
She crawled into the bed beside Misty, pulling her into the curve of her body. Misty snuggled into her, nestled perfectly as if the space was made for her. Misty sighed as an aura of safety enveloped her entire body -- it was like Cordelia’s arms were the missing piece, the thing she needed to feel whole again. When she laid like this, the idea of being scared seemed foreign to her, the concept of loneliness no longer existed. It was just her and Cordelia, and Misty knew it would last forever.


End file.
